A Love, Unrequited

DEAR LOVER......

For too many years than I care to say, I've been waiting for you to want me, to be with me, to cherish me, to love me. To look at me with stars in your eyes and not just as a 'good piece of ass.' To care about my feelings, to think I'm beautiful and treat me accordingly. For decades, you have been my knight in shining armor.....in my head.

What was it about you that I was so infatuated with? You've always been good looking but I was never about looks. I loved the way you walk, cocky and sure. The way you talk, deep and commanding. The way you laugh....that laugh....boyish and sly.

Sly. Manipulative. Selfish. 

Three words that describe the real you, not the fantasy figure I've held on to for umpteen years. In my head, you were this strong, sexy, manly creature who could fulfill my every need. You would love me, protect me and make me feel like a queen...because you were always my king. Even when I was involved with other men, they all knew about 'the one.' You were always the unseen threat to my relationships.

You were like a celebrity to me.. There were times I'd see you out and the moment I'd lay eyes on you, I would smile and swoon; yearning to be by your side. In your midst. In your life. But, I'd tell myself I wasn't enough for you.

I wasn't fly enough. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't worthy. I wasn't enough.

So, I loved you from a distance. Then I found out you were looking for me. You wanted to contact me. You wanted to see me. You (finally) wanted me. I remember telling my cousin, who had called to see if it was okay to give my number to you, 'Hell yeah he can have my number!' I recall the moment I heard your voice on my voicemail. It was surreal. When we saw each other in person and you asked me to take a ride with you, I didn't care that we weren't in a luxury vehicle or that we were only riding around the block; at that moment, I would've gone anywhere with you.

To the moon and back.

I was so excited that, finally, I'd have a chance for a real relationship with you. I thanked God, in advance, for what was getting ready to happen in my life. My fantasy was soon becoming a reality. We talked, we hung out together, laughed, partied and enjoyed each other's company. My emotions ran wild and my actions followed. Soon, I was giving way too much and receiving little in return. You always told me I was special to you, claimed to love me. Yet, your actions showed me different. But, I refused to see it; choosing, instead, to hold on to my fantasy.

I listened to your words and excused your actions.

Sure, there were times when I claimed to have learned my lesson and would cut you out of my life. I ignored your calls, refused your invitations and rejected your advances. But, ultimately, your persistence would prevail and I'd be right back where I didn't need to be; in your arms. Each time, you'd give a tad bit more of yourself; a kiss where there had been none, 50 strokes instead of 5, a touch of concern here, an ounce of regard there. I accepted your bullshit excuses, tolerated unsatisfying (sometimes degrading) sexual interludes and held on to the false hope that you would eventually 'get yourself together' and be the man I wanted,

I yearned for your company, you came for sex.. You made me laugh, my heart ached with emptiness. You said I was special; I felt disposable to you. You said you loved me, all I ever felt was used by you. I wish I could charge you with crimes of passion but the truth of the matter is, I gave myself to you, freely and with wild abandon. When I discovered the key was always in my possession, I unlocked my heart and pushed you out.

Now, I am free.

A letter to my daughter....

Dear Daughter,

     I see so much of me in you and it scares me. It scares me, because, like me, you are a fierce protector of your family & friends; family and friends that sometimes don't deserve your loyalty and protection. It scares me because, like me, you often put other people's feelings, wants and needs before your own. It scares me because, like me,  you love others freely, completely and deeply. It scares me because, like me, when it comes to men especially, you love too hard and too long.....
even when they don't love you back.

Like me, you choose men who are broken on the inside. You attract the kind of guys who need more than you are capable of giving. Instead of a partner who can improve the quality of your life, you end up with partners who bring you pain & stress. They always have a back story of which you try to make sense, try to make right, try to make over. You try to love the pain from their eyes, the ache from their hearts, the darkness from their souls. You try to love them out of a history of despair, into a future of happiness, joy and success. You try to love them into seeing themselves in your eyes. You try to love them into loving you.

STOP THAT. NOW. IT DOESN'T WORK. IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. 

You see, some men are so caught up in their own despair that they really don't see you. Sure, they take notice of your beauty, might even engage in deep & meaningful conversation and they won't hesitate to make sweet love to your body. But, when it comes to establishing a genuine connection, soul to soul, heart to heart, eye to eye, you won't get it. Not necessarily because they don't want to give it to you, they just can't. They are incapable and there is nothing you can do about that.
Only they can make that change.

YOU MUST UNDERSTAND, IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU.

When you come along with your light, fluttering heart, bright, beautiful smile, sweet, sassy charm, high hopes & big dreams, he has no idea what to do with it. He is not ready. He has not been prepared. He is battling demons from his past or buckling under societal pressures of today or barely fighting for his future. Although you may think shining your light into his darkness will help him see his way out, the effect is often just the opposite. Your fire burns him. Your light blinds him.

YOUR BRIGHT AURA HIGHLIGHTS HIS GLOOM.

Try as you might, you cannot make someone love you. You can't charm your way into his heart. Your goodness, he cannot appreciate. Your loyalty means nothing to him. You are just one of many who try to find their worth in his unworthiness. His anger, his sadness, his misery, his loneliness, his insecurities, his incompetence, his history of abuse, violence, indifference, neglect blocks every blessing you try to bestow upon him.

YOUR EFFORTS ARE IN VAIN.

My advice to you, dear daughter, is to turn your focus inward. Give your self the love, attention, affection and care you have so abundantly given to others. Polish your own shine to diamond status, uplift your own spirit, strengthen your own resolve, enlighten your own mind and be the best friend your self ever had. When you are comfortable in your own skin, being good to your self and living your life like it's golden, it is then that your true love will appear.....in the mirror.

Dear daughter,

LOVE YOU FIRST AND THE REST WILL FOLLOW.

B.A.D

Terryn Clevon Pringle: 11/09/1987 - 04/26/2012

Two weeks ago, today, my 24 year old brother committed suicide. He took his red do-rag, looped it around a small pipe (that I never even noticed before) that ran across a small divider wall which separated the dining area from the living area in my mother’s house, tied it around his neck and hung himself. I was at work when I received the frantic call from my cousin. At the time, she didn’t have the facts. All she knew was that ‘somebody said something about someone hanging themselves’ and she was calling me to find out if I knew what happened.  I hadn’t a clue.  I was just returning to my desk when she called and had missed calls from my sister and mother. I calmly told my cousin I would call my mother back to find out what was going in then I’d let her know. My mother was sobbing when she answered her phone and all she could tell me was, ‘Get Home….Now!’ Although I never imagined this would happen, I knew it was my brother. My mother wouldn’t give me any details and I knew, if something bad happened to any person other than a child of hers, she would have said so. It took 45 minutes (and assistance from my coworkers) for me to gain enough composure to get to my mother’s house because, although I did not have the story, I immediately broke down with the mere thought that something was wrong with my baby brother. When I arrived on the scene, I saw police officers and members of my family outside my Mom’s house, all in tears or with looks of despair on their faces. I ran to the closest cousin I saw (which happened to be my cousin who just lost his brother in March) and he confirmed what my gut told me already – Terryn is dead. He hung himself. He’s gone. Oh. My. Lord!  The news took my breath away and even now, as I think about it, it takes my breath away. My baby brother. My beautiful baby brother. My beautiful, respectful, loving, funny, courageous and strong baby brother committed suicide. 

Being B.A.D (black and depressed) is not something the African American community talks about in public, if at all. For the most part, in the Black community, therapy is frowned upon, thought to be unnecessary (‘just go to church, talk to your pastor….handle it’) and a waste of time and money (‘Why pay somebody to tell all your business to?  Tell a friend for free!’).  Women often form friendships with other women in whom they may confide (some of) their secrets, dilemmas and struggles. Sometimes, though, the things they choose to share are sugar-coated, taken lightly or even brushed off, while other things may not be shared at all. Usually, women who are depressed find ways, other than talking about or dealing with the issue, to ease their pain: shopping, eating, sex, gossiping or engaging in some other form of self-destructive behavior. Men are even worse. They usually deal with their problems by themselves and when they can’t come up with a solution or remedy, it often comes out in aggressive, destructive (to themselves or others) behaviors. As a ‘rule,’ men don’t talk about their feelings: not with friends, not with family, not with a spouse and certainly not with a therapist.  But gone undiagnosed and/or untreated, in men or women, depression can be…..and has been…..deadly.

According to Mental Health America:

Clinical depression is not a personal weakness, gracelessness or faithlessness—it is a common, yet serious, medical illness; a “whole-body” illness that affects your mood, thoughts, body and behavior.

Clinical depression can affect anyone: Anyone can experience clinical depression, regardless of race, gender, age, creed or income. Every year more than 19 million Americans suffer from some type of depressive illness. Depression robs people of the enjoyment found in daily life and can even lead to suicide.

Myths about depression: The myths and stigma that surround depression create needless pain and confusion, and can keep people from getting proper treatment. The following statements reflect some common misconceptions about African Americans and depression: “Why are you depressed? If our people could make it through slavery, we can make it through anything.” “When a black woman suffers from a mental disorder, the opinion is that she is weak. And weakness in black women is intolerable.” “You should take your troubles to Jesus, not some stranger/psychiatrist.” The truth is that getting help is a sign of strength. People with depression can’t just “snap out of it.” Also, spiritual support can be an important part of healing, but the care of a qualified mental health professional is essential. And the earlier treatment begins, the more effective it can be.

What causes clinical depression? Many factors can contribute to clinical depression, including cognitive issues (e.g., negative thinking patterns); biological and genetic factors; gender (it affects more women than men); other medications; other illnesses; and situational factors. For some, a number of these factors seem to be involved, while for others a single factor can cause the illness.

Clinical depression is a treatable illness: The good news is that, like other illnesses such as heart disease or diabetes, clinical depression is treatable with the help of a health care professional. In fact, over 80 percent of people with depression can be treated successfully.

Symptoms of clinical depression: Due to cultural backgrounds, depression may be exhibited differently among African Americans. To help decide if you—or someone you care about—needs an evaluation for clinical depression, review the following list of symptoms. If you experience five or more for longer than two weeks, if you feel suicidal, or if the symptoms interfere with your daily routine, see your doctor, and bring this sheet with you.

• A persistent sad, anxious or “empty” mood, or excessive crying
• Reduced appetite and weight loss or increased appetite and weight gain
• Persistent physical symptoms that do not respond to treatment, such as headaches, digestive disorders and chronic pain
• Irritability, restlessness
• Decreased energy, fatigue, feeling “slowed down”
• Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, helplessness, hopelessness, pessimism
• Sleeping too much or too little, early-morning waking
• Loss of interest or pleasure in activities, including sex
• Difficulty concentrating, remembering, or making decisions
• Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts

My family and I knew my brother was ‘feeling down’ about some things in his life and that he was stressed about other things but……aren’t we all?? We didn’t recognize that his normal laid-back demeanor had turned into withdrawal and disengagement. He made negative comments about himself but we didn’t see them as anything life-threatening. We just continued to encourage him, uplift him and offer our support to assist him with whatever endeavor he chose to improve his life. He was a hardworking young man who, seemingly to us, kinda had it made. He lived at home with Mom, she paid all of the bills, he had an adoring girlfriend and many friends. He was handsome, well-dressed, well-groomed, well-respected and well-received by most (if not all) who knew him. He loved his family and spent quality time with his nieces & nephews. In hindsight, though, I see the signs clearly. He had become less willing to participate in activities, he was losing weight and he was dealing with a few very serious, personal dilemmas. One glaring memory that says it all to me (now) is that, for my mother’s birthday in January, my brother, sisters and I planned to go out to dinner and have our family picture taken. Up until the day we were supposed to go, my brother was on board. But when I called him that day to make sure he was all set for that evening’s plans, he told me ‘No.’ He said he wasn’t going and that we didn’t need him in the picture anyway. I just brushed it off to him being a brat and not having what he always thought he needed (a pocket full of money and the 'perfect' outfit). I later learned that he told my mother his being in the picture would only mess it up. WHERE he got that idea and WHY he would ever think that is way beyond any of our understanding. My brother was the baby in the family….and my mother’s only son. He was showered, smothered and covered in love & attention every single day of his life. Unbeknownst to us, what we gave was not ‘enough’ to sustain my brother and his emotional/mental health. He had negative feelings that were too strong for any amount of love and attention to dispel. He apparently was suffering from mental illness and we had no idea; I'm not even sure if he realized it. But, even if we had known, we didn’t have the power to change it. I just hate that, having dealt with depression myself, I didn’t recognize it in my brother. I was so busy trying to make him believe what I thought of him that I didn’t take the time to listen all the times he expressed how he felt and what he believed about himself. I did not realize he needed much more than words of encouragement & inspiration; I did not hear his cry for help…..and it hurts like hell.

I can (and sometimes do) torture myself with the ‘Ifs, Ands, Buts, Whys, Whens, Whos and Hows’ but it will not bring my brother back. All I can do is cherish his memory and keep it alive by sharing his story….my story….our story. In doing so, I hope that somebody, somewhere will learn something from my family’s experience and be encouraged to get the help they need.  If you take away anything from this blog post, please recognize the seriousness of depression and the importance of not only recognizing the symptoms of depression in yourself or a loved one, but taking action. Hold on to hope, hold on to health, hold on to love and hold on to life!

 

My dearest baby brother……My heart literally aches for you.  I wish you were still here to talk with and laugh with, spend time with and hold hands with…..I miss your great big hugs and sloppy, baby brother kisses and most of all, I miss hearing your voice & seeing your gorgeous face. I miss you so much.  But you are gone, forever and I must find a way to accept and make peace with that….and with God’s grace, I will. Now that you have your wings, may you Rest In Eternal Peace, Terryn……I Love You.